


Anything for Love

by Gigi_Sinclair



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 05:47:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/807995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gigi_Sinclair/pseuds/Gigi_Sinclair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas gets protective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything for Love

**Author's Note:**

> For more stories sooner, feel free to follow me at: gigitrek.tumblr.com

“What, exactly, did Lord Gillingham say to you?” Mr. Carson’s face was red. Bright, flaming red, like a tomato, and he gripped Jimmy’s arm tightly, with the strength of a much younger man. Jimmy recalled being told Mr. Carson had suffered a heart attack some years previously. He looked due for another one.

“I don’t think you want to know,” Thomas said. Sounds of shock, concern and excitement—this last from the Dowager—came in waves through the open doors of the dining room.

“Is that your opinion, Mr. Barrow?” Sarcasm lay thickly in Mr. Carson’s voice, weighing it down. A vein bulged, purple and disconcerting, in the middle of his forehead. “I will take it under advisement, given that you will very shortly be unemployed.”

Thomas met Jimmy’s eye. He shrugged and flexed his right hand, wincing with pain. The sight touched Jimmy’s heart. He saved me, Jimmy thought. He’s my hero.

“Lord Gillingham told me he wanted to put his tongue in my backside,” Jimmy said, getting right to the crux of the matter. If Mr. Carson wanted to hear it, then hear it he would. “He said it would be the best thing I’d ever felt. That I would probably come just from that.” Mr. Carson’s face went from tomato red to ghostly white in an instant. Jimmy couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t believed it, either, that such filth could pour from such an elegant mouth, all while Jimmy leaned in close with the silver platter of smoked salmon. Lord Gillingham had taken a lot of salmon, forcing Jimmy to linger. “Then he said—pardon my language, Mr. Carson—he said he would fuck me on the dining table, in front of all the guests. That even a…” Embarrassment arrived, late to the party, and brought a blush to Jimmy’s cheeks. “A fucking whore like me would be begging for his massive cock.”

It had taken everything Jimmy had to keep hold of the tray. He couldn’t believe nobody else was hearing this, but they were oblivious. Lady Grantham, on Lord Gillingham’s right, was turned away, talking with Mr. Branson, while the Dowager, on his left, was deaf as a post anyway and leaning over as far as she could to hear what Lord Grantham was trying to tell her. Only Thomas, standing behind Lord Gillingham with a bottle of wine, witnessed Jimmy’s humiliation.

Thomas had put the bottle on the sideboard as Gillingham went on and on, spewing an endless stream of obscenities while piling his plate with more smoked salmon than he could possibly eat. Jimmy couldn’t move. He was too shocked to feel or think or do anything.

Thomas was struck by no such paralysis. He came back, hands empty, and said, “Lord Gillingham, sir,” in his most genteel under-butler tone. Gillingham looked over, and Thomas punched him dead in the face.

Which was where Mr. Carson had stepped in, grabbing Thomas and Jimmy like errant schoolboys and dragging them out of the room while Gillingham held a serviette to his gushing nose and Lord Grantham grovelled stunned apologies.

“That’s it, really.” Jimmy swallowed. He couldn’t take his eyes off Thomas. It was the second time he’d played the hero for Jimmy, and this time, the consequences were going to be even more dire than a beating. “I know you don’t want to hear from me, Mr. Carson, but it really wasn’t Mr. Barrow’s fault. Lord Gillingham had no call to speak to me like that, none at all, and…”

“All right.” Mr. Carson held up a hand. “I shall speak…frankly with Lord Grantham about the matter.” He looked as if the very idea made him bilious. “I think it wise if neither of you is seen for the rest of the evening.” He breathed deeply, once and then again. Straightening his jacket, Mr. Carson stood, as proud and noble as any man heading into battle, and returned to the dining room.

“That’s a long way to go to get an evening off, Thomas,” Jimmy joked, once Mr. Carson had gone. His voice was weaker than he’d have liked.

Thomas shrugged. Jimmy turned to go, and Thomas said, “Wait a moment.” They shouldn’t linger here, in the hallway outside the dining room. Still, Jimmy turned back. A strange expression, almost sad, had come to Thomas’ face. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. That was the nicest thing anybody’s ever done for me.” Jimmy thought back a year, to Thomas beaten and bloodied beneath a bridge. “Well, second nicest, at least.”

“Not for that.” Thomas sighed. His fingers fidgeted, tapping on his thigh. He probably needs a cigarette, Jimmy thought. Hell, so do I. “I was just like him, wasn’t I?”

“No.” Jimmy didn’t have to think about it. “You’re nothing like him.” He hadn’t liked Thomas’ touches, and remarks and attention, at first. They’d been irritating, a nuisance. They had never made his stomach turn. They had never made Jimmy feel alone in a room full of people, and they had never, ever frightened him. Not even when he’d woken up with Thomas in his bed. Although that had been surprising.

“How can you say that? I…”

Jimmy hesitated, but only for a fraction of a second. _He’s not the only one who can be bloody brave,_ Jimmy thought, and he pressed his lips against Thomas’.

It was quick. It had to be. Mr. Carson would have dropped down dead, literally expired in the hallway, if he’d come back out and seen them. Jimmy didn’t want to be responsible for that. “Because I love you,” Jimmy said. He touched Thomas’ hand, the right one, lightly with the tips of his fingers. “Come on. You heard Mr. Carson. We’re to hide ourselves away for the rest of the evening.”

“And who are we to disobey Mr. Carson?” Thomas sounded stunned. _Well,_ Jimmy thought, _riding high on courage, he’d better get over that. We’ve got a lot to do tonight._ He headed for his room, revelling in the sound of Thomas’ footsteps close behind him.


End file.
